Passive and Aggressive
by faketreefinger
Summary: Maybe, maybe, maybe. Really, she didn’t want to be upset anymore and she didn’t want to think that he would leave her eventually. Her rational thoughts were rushing back to her... POST SABBATICAL GSR


_This is actually cross-posted at Geek Fiction. The version there is a bit more... erm... adult. If you would rather read that one, you'll find it there under the same pen name._

_This one, however, is tuned down a notch.  
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Passive and Aggressive  
By faketreefinger

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"_And if you want it, then come and get it for crying out loud_

_The love that I was giving you was never in doubt_

_Let go of your heart, let go of your head and feel it now"_

_-David Gray, "Babylon"_

A soft, tentative knock brought Sara out of a state of unconsciousness, no doubt brought on by sleep deprivation. She had been expecting the knock. She knew the knock was coming. She knew it was Grissom doing the knocking, but she didn't move. Not immediately anyway.

If she was completely honest with herself, she would admit that things weren't that great _before_ he left and they hadn't been for months. He had been randomly distant or bitter but then it would go away… then appear again. Like a tick. For some reason, she never once thought that these fits had anything to do with her. Now she cursed herself for being so naïve. Maybe she was in denial.

But when he told her he was taking a month-long sabbatical across the country, she decided that she would never allow herself to be that clueless again. Ever.

She sighed and lifted herself reluctantly from the chair in her living room. Rubbing her eyes tiredly, she opened the door and braced herself. For what? She didn't know for sure. She looked him over and sighed inwardly, much to her dismay. Somewhere deep down she was ecstatic to see him. Without even noticing, she smiled. It was small but it existed.

"Hey," he said with a shy smile. He had a glow about him she couldn't discern. She wished she could say it had something to do with her, but there were too many other variables to consider. Perhaps he was happy because of his break, or maybe he was happy because he was home. To assume his glow had to do with her, all or in part, would be a bad idea. It would crumble the wall she had building while he was gone.

"Hi," she replied simply and leaned against the doorframe. "Welcome back."

"It's good to see you," he said quietly and stepped closer. She instinctively backed away a bit. Maybe he wouldn't notice, but probably would. His eyebrows shot up in alarm and she smiled for preventative measure.

"You too."

He nodded. "Can I come in?"

She looked back in her apartment and winced as if she and the girls were in the middle of a game of bridge. Alas, she had no real excuse to keep him out. All she had been doing was staring at the wall.

"Yeah, sorry," and she moved aside as he stepped past her. Out of pure habit, she breathed him in and swallowed the lump in her throat. It was that scent she had been trying to avoid in the third drawer of her dresser. She hated that scent because she loved it so much.

He must have sensed something wasn't quite right with her. He would have kissed her otherwise. As he stepped into the light of the room she looked him over again. He had lost a little more weight while he was gone and had grown his beard back. Of course she wondered why and tried not to look too deeply into it. But she couldn't help it.

She offered him a smile. "Can't make up your mind?"

His eyebrows came together and he cocked his head to the side curiously. She waited for him to catch on to what she was talking about and didn't offer any other explanation.

"Oh. The beard?" She nodded and crossed her arms, leaning against the bar that separated the kitchen and living area. Giving a short laugh, Grissom brought his hand up to his beard and rubbed lightly, then shrugged noncommittally. "I guess not."

Her face was a perfect balance between blankness and feigned complacency. She wasn't going to make this easy for him by any means. If he left because their relationship was exhausting him, he was going to have to say it. Perhaps she wouldn't respect him until he got the balls to do so. She remain in a place that was normal enough that she wouldn't give her feelings away so completely, but abnormal enough that he wouldn't think everything was okay. Things had changed with his leaving. He _had_ to know that. She just couldn't tell him.

She hated the term "passive aggressive," but that's what it was. She was being passive aggressive.

Grissom moved closer, but this time she didn't move back. She held his gaze, but she was certain that hers didn't hold the lust his did. It couldn't possibly. She refused to see love. It would have destroyed the composure she was already struggling to maintain.

Because, yeah, she still loved him. And all she wanted to do was go back to that time when she believed without a doubt that he loved her. He never said it… he never had to. His actions spoke for it. He had gotten so good at _showing_ her how he felt that he didn't need to _say_ it. That's why it hurt so badly when he told her he was leaving.

He had told her that didn't like how life was going right now and that he needed to go and clear his head. Two days prior to leaving. He said it didn't have anything to do with them. But he left. All she could think was _How is now any different than years ago? We've seen worse stuff. He's been doing this for a long time. Me. That's what's different. Me._

And then that awkward little goodbye in the locker room. She had hoped that she wouldn't see him, but he had sought her out. He probably meant well with the "goodbye, I'll miss you" but it only made her feel worse. It was awkward and fake.

He was not standing directly in front of her and he moved his hand up to move a strand of hair behind her ear affectionately. He smiled and licked his lips.

"Did you get the package I sent you?"

Oh yes. The package. All in all, a perfectly Grissomesque gift. She adored it. But… no note. No love letter. No apology. Would she tell him that? No…

"Yes, I did. It's in a terrarium in your office. Thank you."

He nodded with satisfaction. He couldn't be _that_ clueless. He had to see that everything wasn't okay. No, he just wasn't getting it because he was still smiling. He brought his other hand up to her face and they moved behind her head, gently tugging her towards him. He bent down and kissed her softly. She wished she could be less responsive but the electricity was still there. It would always be there.

He pulled back slightly and brought her in for a hug. She felt his breath in her ear and a shiver erupted from God-knows-where. She closed her eyes and inhaled his scent again. For a moment, she indulged in the memories the feeling of his beard on her neck evoked. She hadn't felt it in quite some time and was surprised to find that she had missed it.

"I really did miss you," he whispered in a sad, resigning voice and the hug tightened for a moment. Her heart felt wobbly and her emotions conflicting.

On one hand, she wanted to be angry at him… on the other hand she wanted nothing more than to forgive him of this and forget it ever happened. Maybe she would try. Maybe she was just being too emotional about it all. Maybe she was sexually frustrated. She could have sex with him. She wasn't stupid enough to think it would fix things, but perhaps she would feel something again. Even if it was purely physical.

She brought her hands up to his chest and pushed him back lightly to look into his eyes. He nodded as if to confirm what he had whispered and she brought her hand up to his face this time, to feel his beard. It was a lot scruffier than it had ever been. _He kind of looks like a sailor_, she mused and that brought a smile. Grissom as a sailor. It was a slightly funny thought, really. She would have sex with him… see how it went from there. It was probably just her being weak, but he was so close to her and he smelled so good… and she really did miss the feel of his beard on her skin.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and tugged him down for a fierce kiss. There was no gentle preamble or sensual prelude. It was complete passion and lust. They had both been deprived for a month of sex and they both wanted it. Love was there but it was hidden deep, deep down where it couldn't hurt her later. This would be about sex… nothing more. She didn't care what it was for him.

He pressed her hard against the counter. She could feel the extent of his arousal pressing into her leg and she whimpered. He pulled back with a worried expression.

"Did I hurt you?"

She shook her head quickly and bought her lips up to meet his again. They weren't usually rough, it just wasn't their style. But she was in no mood for that caring, sensitive bullshit.

She ground her hips against his and a groan reverberated from his throat. His hands, which had been making their way from her hair to her ass then back up, found her hips and lifted her up onto the counter. He stopped and stepped back to look at her. It was a look of admiration that she couldn't ignore.

"What?" she asked and reluctantly decided that this wouldn't be a roll in the sack release of sexual frustration. He wanted to make love to, with her. How was she going to be angry with him after this?

Suddenly the idea of psychologically and emotionally detaching herself from the situation altogether didn't seem like such a bad idea.

He stepped into the space between her legs and rested his hands on her thighs. He was attempting to slow her down. He brought his lips up to her neck planted slow, wet kisses down to her chest until he got to where her skin met the fabric of her shirt. His lips sought out the other side of her neck as his hands snaked lazily up to the hem of her t-shirt. He toyed with the bottom of the shirt as if reluctant to remove it.

"Take it off," she whispered huskily and he looked up at her then back down to his hands where they rested on her hips. He bit his lip and raised her shirt slowly. He lifted her arms and the shirt came off, tossed onto the floor unceremoniously. Sara sighed and rolled her eyes inwardly. If the love and adoration she normally felt for him wasn't covered up by the mud of bitterness and spitefulness, she would be utterly grateful for the care and time he was trying to take.

She really just wanted to get it over with and see how it felt afterwards. She knew what a bad idea that was. But you have to touch the stove to know it's hot. You want to feel the pain to know it's real.

His eyes scanned her body again and she saw him sigh with what might have been relief. Like he had forgotten what she looked like. She smiled crookedly at his look of wonder.

"You know… you've seen me without my shirt on before," she voiced and immediately regretted it. It came out wrong and rather took away from the moment. But screw the moment. His head snapped up at her and he looked hurt for a split second, and then smiled bashfully.

"I know. I just… you're…" he sighed and shook his head. "You're beautiful, Sara. So beautiful."

Her heart skipped a beat and she decided to shut up from that moment on. Whatever decision she had to detach herself from the moment was gone. It wasn't so much what he said but how he said it. How he looked when he said it. His eyes were slightly watery and heavy. She couldn't deny that no matter what he said or did… he had love for her. And she wanted nothing more than to feel it.

She fought back the disconcerting urge to cry and was glad when he began kissing her again. This time it was gentle and slow. His tongue slid lightly along her lips and only just into her mouth. She slid closer to the edge of the counter and he pulled back to start kissing her right ear.

"I don't want to do this here," he whispered softly and a familiar shiver shot up and down her spine at the feel of his warm breath in her ear.

"Okay," she whispered back and he slid her off the counter to meet his waist and he carried her to her bedroom, kissing her all the while.

The door was only slightly ajar and he kicked it open. They tumbled towards the bed and Grissom's hand went behind Sara's head as he cast her gingerly onto it.

She looked at his eyes and knew what she would find there. That same look of adoration and wonder she had seen earlier. Then, it had frustrated her. Before she had let herself go in the moment.

He looked at her in the eyes. A smile that had somehow found its way on her face wasn't completely faded, but there was something else there. Something familiar to them. His eyes roamed her face and settled back on her eyes.

It took them a moment to adjust to the feeling, not having felt it for what seemed an eternity. And it wasn't just the physical feeling. It was that connection that two people just don't have when they are on opposite ends of the country. A connection they had most certainly lost somewhere. At the moment, it didn't matter to Sara about whose fault it was that they had lost it in the first place. It didn't matter. None of it mattered because they felt it now.

She could feel him pick his head up and look at her, but she kept her eyes clenched shut to keep the tears that were threatening at bay.

"Hey," she heard him say delicately. "Look at me."

It was strange, really. For all of the doubts she had about his feelings for her, and she had never felt so close to him than at that moment. Maybe it was because she had felt so disconnected to him previously. Maybe it was the feeling of them being together. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Really, she didn't want to be upset anymore and she didn't want to think that he would leave her eventually. Her rational thoughts were rushing back to her, catching up with her. She wondered what he was feeling, what he thought about the whole thing. Did he really think everything was the same? Did he really think that what he did was acceptable?

He seemed to notice her vacancy and moved off of her slowly. He rolled beside her and brought the sheets up from the foot of the bed. He covered them both and turned to her. She didn't look at him because she was crying. He had to see it and gave a sad sort of sigh.

"Sara…?"

She sniffled and wiped her eyes, not bothering to hide her emotions anymore. "Yeah?"

"I know things aren't okay right now," he said in a low, poignant tone. "I'm sorry…"

But she knew he had no real idea what he was apologizing for, so it didn't mean all that much to her. At least he understood that _things weren't okay_.

"Mhmmm," she replied and sniffled again. She looked up at the ceiling, not able to meet his eyes now that her thoughts were clearer… or were they muddier? She didn't know.

"How…" he cleared his throat and seemed to brace himself for the answer to whatever question he was going to ask. "How come you never answered my phone calls while I was away?"

She had expected that question eventually. Truth be told, she didn't want to talk to him while he was gone. They would have talked about what they did that day. The weather. No, she couldn't deal with that. Talking about mundane things is okay when you're on good terms. When you aren't, it's just a stall tactic.

But she didn't know how to tell him that. Because after all, he should have never left her like that in the first place. Now the damage was done. She didn't know what he could say or do now. She knew he loved her but for some reason she wasn't secure in it anymore. It scared her to no end that such insecurity was irreversible.

"Sara…" he paused and sighed wearily, "are you leaving me?"

Such a question threw her off completely. It hadn't really occurred to her. Perhaps somewhere in her subconscious. She never thought about _her_ leaving _him_. Just the opposite had clouded her mind.

She turned to look at him, her face wet with tears. He looked miserable and scared. She bit her lip and shook her head, knowing her voice was too shaky for speech.

"No?"

She shook her head again and spoke, "I don't think I could if I wanted to, honestly."

A moment passed as they looked on each other. She had never seen him cry, but he looked like he might at that moment. Instead, his eyebrows came together and his mouth parted. He looked around, as if searching for words.

"You're…" he started and looked at her seriously. "You're waiting for me to leave you," he said quietly and slowly.

It was a statement of fact, not a question. It was as much her "ah-ha" moment as it was his. She looked away quickly. He was right. She wasn't going to leave him. She didn't want to. And couldn't. A new wave of tears made their way down her face. He reached out tentatively and wiped them from her cheeks, then moved the hair from her face.

"Oh, honey," he started as he moved closer. He kissed her temple and pulled her in for a hug. "You're in for a long wait, you know that?" He looked down as he asked his question, a small but serious smile on his face.

She gulped, not knowing what to say. Really, he had given her what she needed to hear but she was still dealing with the personal revelation.

"Sara, please say something."

She sighed and relaxed slightly in his embrace. "I… I don't know what to say, Grissom."

"Tell me you understand that I'm not going to leave you. We'll fix this. I promise."

"I understand," she responded, for some reason wanting to assuage his worries now. Or maybe she really did understand.

"I don't know why it's so hard for me to tell you how much I love you. But I do. I love you. You know that, too right?"

She didn't answer. She was too wrapped up in the fact that it was the first time he had said "I love you" out loud. She never thought she needed to hear it. Well, maybe she did after all. She looked up at him with a grin.

"That's the first time you've said that."

He smiled sadly, probably realizing that compared to how long they had actually been in love… that wasn't really a good thing.

"I know. I'm going to say it a lot more, now."

She placed her head back on his chest and sighed. "I love you, too, Grissom."

He pulled her tighter into their embrace and she realized that he had never heard her say that out loud either. She would say it more often, too.


End file.
